


I want you

by Hakyeonsmelanin, Sehuns left eyebrow (Hakyeonsmelanin)



Series: Obsession [1]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Based off obsession, Bottom!Sehun, Character Death, Demonic Possession, Hand Jobs, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Masturbation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mutual Pining, Myeon is demonically possessed and Sehuns depressed af, Pls read this 🥺, References to Christianity, Religious References, Rough Sex, Unrequited Love, junmyeons there but kind of not there but kind of there, stream obsession y’all we need that dance practise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:13:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21736621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hakyeonsmelanin/pseuds/Hakyeonsmelanin, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hakyeonsmelanin/pseuds/Sehuns%20left%20eyebrow
Summary: There’s something different about him.
Relationships: Kim Junmyeon | Suho/Oh Sehun
Series: Obsession [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1566559
Comments: 3
Kudos: 51





	I want you

There’s something different about him.

Sehun has known him long enough to know when there’s something amiss, something strange permeating from within him.

Maybe it’s the sudden silkiness to his timbre, every word rolling after the last like a smooth succession of waves against cliffside rock. He can hear the smile in Junmyeon’s voice, even when there’s no reason to smile. Each syllable spews into his ear, almost knocks him off of his feet, like violent volcanic ash that has arisen from the belly of the Earth. He’s stifled by Junmyeon’s voice because it’s not a voice he knows.

Maybe it’s the spring in his step. His shoulders, normally heavy with the weight of the world, are broader with confidence. The nervous tapping of his feet is a thing of the past, each present footstep being loud and unstoppably quick. The leader walks without sparing so much as a glance to those behind him, like a gentle breeze on swelteringly hot day. Here one moment and gone the next. Sehun dreams of reaching out and trapping him in his arms, pulling him close so he can never leave again. He’s saddened by Junmyeon’s footsteps because he knows better than to chase after the unattainable.

Maybe it’s the darkness in Junmyeon’s eyes. They’re lazily hooded, as though he’s just awoken from the most satisfying of slumbers yet they are ceaselessly alert. Unnervingly alert. His gaze is intrusive, razor sharp and Sehun feels himself getting sliced to pieces, bloodily and beautifully each time those eyes slide onto his body. Those eyes break the younger man apart and piece him back together again, strip him bare with all his vulnerabilities for the world to see. He is afraid of Junmyeon’s eyes because they’re just so cold.

“Stop.” The gentle gargle of the drain sounds distantly as he scrubs his plate clean. He feels Junmyeon’s stare, he feels his body submerging into molten lava, singeing his flesh until not a trace of him remains left.

He turns to see an amused smile and thick brow cocked high. The dorm is deathly silent and Sehun scrambled for as answers as to how that’s even possible he lives with six other men.

“You’re always staring. Stop.” His voice has never sounded more pathetic to his own ears, so weak and desperate for validation. He needs to know that this isn’t a concoction of an overworked body and restless mind, he needs to know he’s right and that Junmyeon _isn’t_ Junmyeon. 

The leader steps closer with lordly composure, his head cocked and an ill-fitting gravity weighing down his features. He regards Sehun carefully, a stifling silence enveloping the two men. Eyes filtering over his face, full lips quirked into a dimpled smirk and a wet tongue darting out in the most painfully of erotic ways. He regards Sehun as though he were at the zoo, watching the most tragically exotic of creatures.

“I like the look of you.”

He breathes out, after an eternity, hot air fanning Sehun’s reddening cheeks. They’re nose to nose, a kiss away, and all the younger man wants to do is run.

To him or away from him?

The question rattles through his mind, seizes his limbs and the hot blood that’s shamelessly rushing through him. Sehun forces his eyes to the floor, He won’t look, he can’t look. 

And when finally musters the strength to look, the kitchen is empty and distant footsteps echo through the hallway.

~

Music videos shootings are always draining. It’s been seven years since he first stood in front of a camera set, in front of the eager eyes of a production team, and spread himself out for all to see. Sehun, when he dances, is a wave at sea. Fluid and beautiful, powerful and gentle, serene and utterly destructive. There is nothing that can tame him when the music begins to play. He is a dancer, through and through, he lives and breathes for the flexibility of the human body and the shapes it can take. If he can’t do this right then what good is he?

What good is he to EXO?

To his fans?

To _himself?_

”You alright?” Jongin asks, a kind smile poking at the end of his lips. It’s his voice that betrays him. Sweet, but undeniably worn down with concern. The semantics means nothing without the context. Jongin is an easily worried person, it’s currently three in the morning and Sehun has been dancing continuously since twelve in between takes.

”I’m good.”

Jongin nods, hair falling into his eyes a little. He must be exhausted himself, worked to bone by back to back promotions. He rarely sleeps, eyes heavy with tiredness and jaw slack as he scrambles for energy when the cameras flash on. Sometimes, if he’s lucky, he’ll sleep with whispers of Kyungsoo’s name on his lips and a honeyed voice murmuring though the shell of his headphones. It must be nice, Sehun thinks, to be so loved.

”You’ve been dancing non-stop.”

”Have I?” The younger man pauses and feels cold, slimy regret seep into him. It’s those eyes again, kohl rimmed and completely alert. They burn him from across the set, unwavering, unblinking.

“Hun,” the maknae swallows down the urge to recoil at the name.

Years ago, under the dimming light of the practise room, Junmyeon had given him that very name, christened him and submerged into the murky waters of love.

There is no love as intense as your first.

”It’s gonna be alright.” Jongin smiles, radiantly as ever, and Sehun wonders what it would’ve been like had he fallen for him instead.

Jongin is painfully perceptive, behind the guise of naivety he wears so well. He is wise beyond his years, every part intuitive as he is a dancer. He knows whenever there’s something wrong. It both unsettles and warms Sehun’s heart.

”Just...give me a shout if you need anything.” Jongin pats him on the back and leaves, following the frantic calls of his stylist.

Sehun repeats the words, praying they’ll calm the violent churning of his blood, the niggling pain at the back of his head.

”It’s gonna be alright, it’s gonna be alright, it’s gonna be—“

He catches a glimpse of vibrant red horns. They’re hauntingly beautiful under incandescent moonlight that shines ahead. Junmyeon— is it fair to even call him that even more?—can feel the weight of the maknae’s stare and relishes in it, a cruel grin stretching out his features.

Sehun can’t even recognise him anymore.

~

He ruminates over it all, mulling over the past, analysing the present and fearing for the future.

There’s no way. There’s no way Junmyeon could ever feel the same way. Sehun shakes his head as though to fling the thoughts from his mind.

Sehun thinks back to four years ago, how small and afraid he was, how he trembled whilst enacased in Junmyeon’s warm hands.

” _I think I’m gay._ ”

_The leader pauses, jaw stiffening in surprise. Sehun knots his brows together and shrinks in on himself. He’s disgusting, utterly immoral and worst of all Junmyeon’s going to hate him for it. It’s never going to be the same again. He should’ve just kept his mouth shut. Why can’t he ever keep his mouth shut—_

“ _That’s what you’ve been so worried about?” Junmyeon smiles and Sehun crumbles._

“ _You deserve happiness, Hun. I don’t care whether it’s with a man or woman—just be happy.” Strong arms pull him close, the rhythmic beating of the leader’s heart easing the panicked throb of his own._

He sees Junmyeon a little differently, after that night. 

He thinks back to winter nights where the dorm was silenced with sleep, save for the quiet, pleading whimpers slipping from his lips. Fingers clutched around his weeping cock, pumping furiously for release.

“ _Ju-Jun—“ Picturing the muscled figure of his hyung, a sob escapes his lips. Heat uncoils from the pit of his stomach, lurching forward and seizing his limbs. Strings of seeds explode into his palm and trickle down onto the ground._

It is shame that quietens him next time.

He thinks of red when he sees Junmyeon. Passion and love and lust and beauty beyond measure. He thinks of a vast, red sea and a burning sun that shines proudly in the sky. 

There was a time he would’ve gladly drowned in that ocean, embraced the waves as they filled his lungs and smiled as they carried him away. 

Now, the _sight_ of that ocean alone is enough to make him feel as though he’s dying.

~

It’s deathly silent, deathly cold and for a moment, Sehun wonders if he, too, has succumb to death.

Then he sees it.

At the foot of his bed, stands Junmyeon. 

Horned.

Grinning.

Evil.

~

”Sehun.”

He freezes, terror gripping at his neck and pressing down onto his windpipe. Stifled, suffocated, he wants to run but his body betrays him.

“Yeah?” The younger man responds carefully, refusing to face his tormentor. Instead, he focuses on fluffing his pillow and laying out the sheets.

A sliver of diffidence creeps up his spine. This is stupid, this is all so stupid. Sehun, above all things, is self-aware. He knows he has blown this out of proportion, worked himself into a cocoon of suspicion and distrust.

He tells himself that what he saw was a dream. His heart tells him something very different.

”Look at me when I’m talking to you, Sehun.” Junmyeon’s voice is hushed, yet entirely forceful. The maknae’s feet move of their own volition after a moment of shock.

Once again, his heart tunes in and tells him there way be consequences if he chooses to disobey.

“I’m looking.”

Junmyeon is naked, save for the towel that is wrapped loosely around his waist. The sinew of his arms, the broad expanse of his wet, shining chest is almost painful to look at and Sehun wonders just how it’s possible for someone to be so beautiful.

”You’re a faggot, aren’t you?” He begins, voice light and words acidic.

”—You like men. God knows you like dick with all those shitty porno mags you got stashed under your bed,” he smiles and Sehun feels as though the wind has been knocked from him.

”It makes me wonder about how you feel when you see me like this. Naked and wet and... ripe for the picking.”

A chuckle forces it’s way from the maknae’s lips, hoarse and completely humourless. Junmyeon’s tongue, once gentle and considerate, is now coated with black, bubbling poison. He spits in Sehun’s face and watches the acid eat away at him, corrode his flesh.

”Hyung, is this a joke?” He scrambles for answers, scrambles to rationalise the most irrational of circumstances. His heart drops low through his ribcage, his ears are ringing and all he thinks is _this can’t be real— ___

____

Junmyeon laughs, heartily but not without a sharp mocking edge that leaves Sehun weak at the knees. The towel cinched around his waist falls slightly at the heaving of his stomach and threatens to reveal the firm flesh of his thighs. His beauty is otherworldly, utterly abnormal.

____

”I don’t joke.” His towel slips a little more as Junmyeon leans forward, his voice containing shocking clarity. There is no softness in his tone, no sweetness in his mannerisms.

____

  
”—Don’t make me repeat myself.”  


____

  
His tongue falters, withers in his mouth like a flower without sunshine. Petals crumbling away, stem drooping lowly until fully buried under soil one more. The words won’t leave, no matter how hard he pushes for them to.  


In the end, it is the uncomfortably intimate proximity between him and Junmyeon, and the fear of consequence that yanks the words from his mouth.

”You’re beautiful.” He breathes out, eyes stinging for reasons unknown to him. The dichotomy in Junmyeon’s character is surreal, almost supernatural and he all he can think is _why is he doing this?_.

____

The leader tilts his head with a thoughtful, hushed smile. His eyes are bright and intense under the glare of the lightbulb above, almost appearing a ruby red. It’s strange, Sehun notices. There are no schedules today and the leader normally hates contacts, constantly complaining about drying they are whenever he has them in.

____

“Beautiful...,” He leans forward and plays with the waistband of the maknae’s joggers, fingers dancing around the edges slowly.

“I’m more than that.” 

Teasing fingers trace his cock.

”Hunnie,” a dangerously low voice whispers into his ear whilst warm hands work their way around his shaft. Junmyeon inhales deeply, as though he never wants to forget the maknae’s scent and that’s almost enough to make him cum on the spot.

”I’ve looked into your heart, I’ve looked into your mind and into the depths of your soul. I know what you are and what you want most in the world. More than the fame and the fans and the fucking _money._ ”

Junmyeon draws away and spits into his hand, before quickening his hand into a blur. Sehun’s head rolls back, eyes fluttering shut as the sound of slapping and lewd squelching engulfs the air. 

”But I’d rather hear it from your lips: what do you want, boy?”

He whimpers, moans, growls and grunts, thrusting his hips upwards into the leader’s hot, sticky hand.

“You you you you you—always you...” 

”Such a pretty little thing,” A wet, hungry tongue laps at the maknae’s neck. “But so troubled from inside. So afraid.”

Laughter bubbles from Junmyeon’s throat. It’s unbearably arrogant and goes straight to Sehun’s weeping cock.

_”You’re mine now.”_

When he cums, Sehun loses his senses. Convulsing wildly, he feels a deliciously cool wave of pleasure gushing over him. It’s when he regains his vision, his hearing, his perception of the world around him that he is truly horrified.

Junmyeon stares, a painfully wide smile stretching out his cheeks. His teeth glisten with strings of spittle clinging to the sides of his lips, like a wild animal past the point of taming.

That is the devil’s smile.

But his eyes are wet with tears that never seem to dry, wide in terror.

Those are Junmyeon’s eyes.

He stares at Sehun, a guttural, unearthly peal of laughter reverberating through the air. The bed shakes at the sound, the windows threaten to crack and then, all at once, it is silent.

“ **You’re mine now.** “

~

”Suho-ssi, before I ask my question, I’d like to congratulate you on the success of this comeback! You showed such a seductive, confident side to you—“

Press conferences would be unendurable if they didn’t pay the bills.

Sehun, above all things, hates vulnerability. To be split open, poked and prodded for the entertainment of the public. He hates the faces of reporters who eyes twinkle with peverse excitement as they scribble down his words, ready to twist them into something completely unrecognisable, something provocative and scandalous. It makes him feel like a circus monkey, a creature whose purpose is to juggle and jiggle and dance so those who watch can point and laugh.

“Thank you, I hope our beloved EXO-L enjoyed it too. Recently...I’ve felt a change within me. Something that’s made me so much more comfortable in my own skin. What can I say? I love it in here!” _Not_ Junmyeon smiles haughtily, still in character, and the maknae grips his chair tightly so that he doesn’t collapse.

A sly glance is sent his way and he hates how his cock twitches.

The crowd laughs and and soaks up his words, the room buzzes and Baekhyun is the next to speak. Sehun loses himself in his thoughts, until he hears his name called out and the perfect mask of an idol slips back into his face.

”Hi, Shin Jisoo from JTCB news here. Sehun-ssi, this one is for you,” The reporter smiles, a little to brightly for his liking.

”—There is a lot of speculation over your...preferences.” The maknae feels the blood drain from his face.

“Your fellow members have all expressed an interest in women however, you’ve been spotted on numerous occasions-”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence.

“Jisoo,” _Not_ Junmyeon’s voice seems to fill the entire room, echoing lightly despite him never raising his tone. Chanyeol and Jongin freeze with their mouths agape whilst Baekhyun and Jongdae appear to focus their attentions on the crowd, praying this doesn’t cause an uproar.

The devil is the only one who relishes in moments like these.

He smiles and leans forward, eyes hard and unforgiving. From underneath the table, Sehun’s hands tremble uncontrollably; a searing electric current surging through them.

”We’re here to talk about the album and if you can’t do that,” He pauses, lengthily and deliberately.

The air is taut with tension, ready to snap at any given moment. Not a single sound can be heard, other than the boom of a demon that has risen from the pits of hell.

”Then I believe it’s within your best interests to leave.”

The finish up after the last segment of questions, straining their backs to greet big names in the broadcasting industry and calling out empty pleasantries. Sehun can hardly wait to return home and retreat into his own world, once more.

Not Junmyeon says nothing during the ride home, fingers tapping away on the leather of his seat with in a frighteningly nonchalant manner, singing along to he radio as though nothing had happened.

When they arrive at the dorm, he takes Sehun by the hand and fucks him into the mattress, harshly and heavily.

”He loves you,” The red-head growls into his ear, accompanied by words in an old, ancient tongue that Sehun is too scared to dwell on.

Sehun turns his face and smothers himself into the pillows because he can’t stomach the idea that Junmyeon is conscious, a prisoner inside of his own body. Banging on the walls that surround him, screaming but no sound escapes his lips. He can’t even begin to imagine the suffering, the torment, the pain Junmyeon—the real Junmyeon, _his_ Junmyeon must be enduring.

Sehun is, admittedly, selfish. He doesn’t want to face his reality, so he concocts a new one for himself. There is no such thing as possession, no demons or devils that steal souls in the dark hours of the night. In this moment, he and Junmyeon are in love and so, he immerses himself in the punishing rhythm of his lover’s hips.

”He’s crying because he can’t have you.”

They cum in unison, lips trailing over lips and tear falling after tear.

~

”We interrupt this program to bring you breaking news: one of the broadcasting sites for the renowned network JTCB has just exploded. Firefighters are on the scene, trying to provide emergency services. Casualties are estimated to be as high at two-hundred...”

He can feel those eyes, cool red, stare expectantly at him.

“What have you done?”

“What you wanted me to.”

He spends the night wretching over the toilet seat, telling himself that the devil is lying and manipulating. That he is planting an evil, black seed into the soil of his mind and will stop at nothing to nurture it and let it flourish into something truly insidious.

He ignores the cool satisfaction in his chest.

~

He hears sobbing.

It’s discordant and staccato, the sound of pure torment.

The maknae lurches up and rushes to the leader’s bed.

“ _HELP!_ ” The leader shrieks, spasming under feather light touches. Sehun grips him tight, pulls him close and swallows down his own fear.

”It’s so dark...I can’t go back there....I can’t go back...” 

”I know.” Sehun lies, teeth gritted and face moist with tears.

”He—He likes you...he likes to toy with you...” Junmyeon wails, primal in his misery.

”I know.”

”He’s going to _consume_ you, he’s gonna rip your heart out of your chest and eat it!”

Sehun freezes before a loud caterwaul brings him back to his senses.

“What the fuck?” Chanyeol barges in, the other members following suit. One by one, they fill up the room and Sehun has never felt more smal, more helpless than he does now.

Junmyeon’s body takes the most unnatural of forms, bending and bulging out at sharp angles. His eyes roll back into his head, twitching as though they’re in the verge of popping out. White, frothy foam collects at the sides of his mouth. Sehun loses all inhibitions, the last remnants of calmness within him and screams as loudly as he can.

His ears ring.

Everything seems to move so much slower than it usually does. Jongin, who is usually so fast and light on his feet, moves at snails pace and Baekhyun, whose tongue is witty beyond compare, stands with his mouth hanging wide open but not a word is to be heard from him.

Sirens sound from outside of the dorm, hands pull at Junmyeon’s limbs and for a moment, he swears he sees the leader’s head rolls back and smirks at him.

~

Sehun has never been a religious man.

God is an untrustworthy figure, too fickle in his judgement and too distant from his people for the maknae to feel any meaningful connection towards him.

But as he walks through this church with Junmyeon’s name on his tongue, he is ready to believe.

”What can you tell me about demonic possession?” He asks the priest, a stocky reserved man in his fifties.

The priest’s eyes snap up to him in complete and utter horror.

”My child, you mustn’t speak so brazenly. Even saying the words could act as a form of contact to those sorts of entities.”

He scrunches his fist and uncoils it, inhales sharply, and tries again.

”Please, I need your help,” Sehun finds himself begging and the priest steps forward, rosemary in hand and cross glinting under stained glass. 

”He’s gonna die if I don’t do something.”

The priest scans over Sehun’s form with a critical eye, a hesitant frown curving at his lips. Desperation is a dangerous thing and love is a powerful motivator. Sehun is both desperate and loves as deeply as the ocean, free flowing and far-reaching.

”...Take a seat and explain. I’ll do what I can for you.”

~

The winter air gnaws at his hands, ears, neck and nose like the grazing of spit-slick teeth against his neck. He clutches the cross tighter in his hands and murmurs a prayer to himself.

The fear within him churns in his stomach, a violent pool of vomit threatening to spill from his throat. The entity within Junmyeon is powerful, ancient and is a part of the Earth itself. Demons are the vermin of the universe, plentiful in numbers and talented in wreaking havoc. Creatures like this are not exterminated easily, not without sating their own selfishness first. Not without taking what they want first.

He’s afraid but for Junmyeon, there is nothing he would not do. Sehun is content, in his heart of hearts, that he is willing to pay the price, if only he could look into those eyes once more and see nothing but familiarity and warmth.

The light flicker sporadically, accompanied by the distant buzzing of cicadas. It grows louder as he twists and turns through the hallways, the clinical white unnerving him all the more.

”It’s gonna be okay. It’s gonna be okay. It’s gonna be okay—“ He murmurs lightly.

_”It sounds as though this demon is heavily invested in you, more-so than your friend. Demons can become attached to humans and sometimes, to gain easier access to the person of interest, they possess the ones closest to them,”_

_Sehun wrings his palms together and then shakes them free, before wringing them once more._

_”...My child, I have some advice for you, but you won’t like it.” Father Kim sighs, eyes downcast._

_”I need to know.”_

” _The first step to defeating this demon is confronting it head on, which is exactly what you need to do. You need to understand the demon’s intentions, show it that you are not afraid. Only then, can I intervene._ “ 

He ignores the rush of blood in his thighs at the memory of sweat-slick flesh and crimson eyes. He thinks of a sweet smile and gentle, musical laugh. He thinks of better days and a bright future. He opens the door, and finds the creature watching the door expectantly.

Piles upon piles of fan-mail, cards and flowers and gifts surround the tables around him. He hasn’t opened a single letter, hasn’t even glanced at a single card and the flowers closest to him are already browning, pastel yellows crumbling into ugly, decrepit things.

”How are you?” Sehun takes a seat next to the bed. He can’t hide anymore.

The demon says nothing.

”Don’t want to talk?”

Not a single sound.

Then, a strange inhuman sound resonates from within the chasm of the leader’s chest. It’s loud and quiet, heavy and light but completely and utterly evil. It is laughter.

He feels as though he’s going to pass out.

“You’re afraid.” The creature muses.

”No.” Sehun counters, fighting to maintain the strength within his voice.

“You reek of things you shouldn’t.”

“Like?” He counters once more, clutching the cross tighter.

It’s a quiet night. Moonlight streams through the window, illuminating part of the demon’s face. His eyes glow a violent, molten crimson and his lips are pulled into an ugly sneer. Sehun wants to kiss him, if only to feel what should be Junmyeon’s lips up against his own. 

The demon’s eyes slide over the expanse of his room, a secluded segment of the hospital that is scarcely used. The maknae’s heart hammers in his rib cage, the silence wrapping its bony fingers around his neck and squeezing and Sehun struggles to stay firm in his seat and not _run for his life_.

The lightbulb bursts, shards of glass scattering around the room and darkness enveloping the world.

”What does it mean to love?”

His mouth is cotton-dry, lips quivering as he fumbles for an intelligent, appropriate response but all he can muster is:

”Huh?”

The demon tilts its head.

“You know I don’t repeat myself.” He threatens, voice containing a terrifying lilt.

”I’m sorry.” Sehun apologises, bowing his head in nothing more than pitch black. Eyes of red follow the shape of his form.

”I don’t know what it means to love. We all love differently. I can’t give a definitive answer.”

”What does it mean to love _for you_?”

Sehun, by no means, is a small man. He’s long-legged and muscular, six foot and understands the extent of his strength. But as he is flung from his seat next to the bed, through the air and slamming into the door he is nothing more than a rag-doll, sewn from fabric and stuffing opposed to muscle and mass.

”I’ll tell you what it means for Junmyeon.” The demon, eyes flashing cruelly, announces.

The maknae attempts to pick himself up off of the floor, arms straining with all of his might and he can only imagine how pathetic he looks in the eyes of an omnipotent, omniscient force. Within him, arises a strange sense of clarity alongside his panic.

Human beings are undeniably arrogant. They parade their sciences and various technologies, relish in chemical warfare and the blazing of guns and in the midst of all of this, forget that they are little more than sacks of meat, easily ripped apart. No human powers could ever compare with the old magic of the universe, the will of the devil.

”Love, for him, is agony. From the day he was born until the day I sucked the soul from his body and made it my own, he’s never felt loved. Not once,” The voice is sonorous, in its deep, demonic quality. It booms and commands attention. It brings Sehun to tears as he lies on the floor.

”That workaholic father of his never spared him a glance, not when he graduated as a Boy Scout when he was ten, not when got accepted into SM and not even when he debuted as the leader of the biggest band in the world. His mother— _the bitch_ —was what he called her, was too busy mourning her dead son to notice the one that was alive. He spent his entire life feeling empty, feeling unloved because that’s what he **was.** “

Was?

As his brain recovers from the force of concrete, Sehun realises the implications of the monster’s words. He sobs harder and heavier than ever before.

”I can see it all, everything’s mapped out in front of me. I can see the desperation, the self-pity, the fact that he enjoyed your little teen crush.”

Sehun’s breath hitches in his throat.

”He liked the feeling of eyes on him, he liked the fact that you’d blush and burn up at the sight of him. That you’d touch yourself under the sheets to thoughts of him. You were the only one to ever love him and he was the only one to ever love you,” a chuckle, high in pitch and yet completely low down.

Silence.

”He’s nothing now.”

”What?” Sehun wipes his eyes against his fists, realising that he is paralysed from the neck down. The demon has glued him to the spot, taken hold of all h

”I want you,” A figure, dark and shadowy encroaches closer and closer. Sehun strains his neck, only to see Junmyeon’s body lie pale and still on the floor.

IW **A** Nt **Y** ouIwA **nTyo **U** Iwa **n** TYoUY **o** UYOUY **O** U**

****

”You’re mine now.”

****

The shadow engulfs him completely, submerging him in ice and death and cold and warm and heat and hell and—

****

As his vision fades out, he catches remnants of Junmyeon awakening, body buzzing back to life and looking him right in the eyes.

****

He rejoices, having looked at the _real_ him, one last time.

****

~

****

”Hello, I’m Park Seunghee and this is JTBC news. Police are baffled at the sudden death of idol, Oh Sehun. Nurses say he came to visit his fellow EXO member Kim Junmyeon, otherwise known as Suho, two nights ago when they found him on the scene unresponsive. His cause of death is believed to have been from drowning, which has coroners puzzled. Secondary drowning is now being investigated as a cause of death. Reports say Kim Junmyeon has acquired a form of mutism, having not spoken since found in his hospital room. Our thoughts and prayers go out to all who have been affected. Good night.”

****


End file.
